Yellow
by wren10514
Summary: Two demon hunters get chased into a bar...crossover with Supernatural and slight btvs for crossovers100 on lj. Rated for safety in later chapters
1. Chapter 1

Crossover: HL/Supernatural/BtVS (ish) (S4 HL!verse, post season 7 BtVS!verse, only just started watching Supernatural so can't pin it down.)

Claim: Highlander (general series)

For prompt: 013 Yellow

Characters: RR, DM, M, Joe Dawson, Dean, Sam, misc btvs-style vampires.

Summary: Two demon hunters get chased into a bar…

Joe was halfway done closing up the bar for the night when the front doors crashed open. He was about to come out from behind the bar where he had been going through the inventory to see what all the ruckus was about, but Mac signalled for him to stay put. Mac, Methos and the kid had been taking advantage of the quiet bar to swap battle stories and drain his stores, but now all except Methos were on their feet, ready to deal with the two shady characters that had just barrelled through the front door.

"Sorry gents but we just need to borrow your bar for a while," the older of the two said, pointing what looked like a crossbow at the door. "Sammy…"

"Got it," the younger one said, dumping a duffel bag on the bar and rummaging through it frantically.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing! We're closed!"

"Sorry old man," the man with the crossbow said, smiling lopsidedly at Joe, "but it really would be better if you guys got the hell out of here about now."

Richie smirked. "Right, 'cause we're just gonna walk out of here?"

The man didn't take his eyes off the door as it opened slowly, admitting seven young men and women. They looked like a cross between a best of the century fashion show and a pack of wild animals.

"It's your funeral." He said as he sighted along the crossbow.

"I sincerely doubt that," Methos said, finishing his beer.

"What's going on here?" Mac asked, moving between Dean and the group.

"Get out of the way!"

"Dean I found it!"

The younger of the two men suddenly pulled a rather colourful super-soaker out of the bag and started firing. Every one of the new group that got hit screamed as their skin smoked, their faces suddenly turning ridged and feral looking.

"What the hell?" Mac said, reaching unconsciously for his sword.

"Vampires!" Richie exclaimed.

Mac looked at them in amazement. "Their eyes are yellow…"

Dean snorted, "I'd really be more worried about the big ass fangs dude."

"They're vampires Mac. I met a whole bunch when I was down in Sunnydale a couple of years ago." He paused, a grin spreading over his face. "Wait, you don't know about vampires? There's something in the world that I know about and you don't?"

"Celebrate later," Methos suggested, pulling out his own sword.

Dean was trying to keep an eye on what was going on behind him, while waiting for the vamps to attack. He only had one shot with the crossbow, before he would have to discard it and go for a weapon that didn't take an age to reload, but these guys weren't making concentrating any easier.

That was probably the only reason that the first vamp to recover from the holy water spray got passed him, knocking Sam to the floor and going for his neck.

"Sam!"

Dean didn't think, but pulled the trigger as soon as he had the vamp's back in his sights. As it fired he suddenly realised how close the thing was and hoped the bolt wouldn't just go right through the bastard and into his brother. He threw the thing aside as soon as the vamp exploded into a cloud of dust, pulling a stake from his inside pocket and turning to face the others that were now advancing.

"Sam are you ok? Speak to me little bro." He called over his shoulder, unwilling to take his eyes of the vampires to check on him.

The blond kid was suddenly beside him a hand on his shoulder while the other held a sword.

"You look after your brother, we'll take care of this."

He realised that all three of the other guys had swords drawn and were moving in on the vampires calmly. Looking back he saw the old man limping out from behind the bar a first aid kit in hand.

"So how do you kill a vampire?" the guy with the ponytail asked.

"Beheading."

"I think I can manage that."


	2. Red

Crossover: HL/Supernatural/BtVS (ish) (S4 HL!verse, post season 7 BtVS!verse, only just started watching Supernatural so can't pin it down.)

Claim: Highlander (general series)

For prompt: 011 Red

Characters: RR, DM, M, Joe Dawson, Dean, Sam, misc btvs-style vampires, mention of Buffy and Scoobies.

Summary: lose one, gain one.

A/N: there is temporary character death, but it is only temporary.

A/N2: I never planned that Sam would turn out to be immortal but **bethsmom** planted a plot bunny that would not let go of my brain so this one is for her - thanks

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Dean waited just long enough to see how efficiently the trio of sword-wielding guys snicked off the vamps heads before he was on his knees next to Sam, taking a wad of cotton off the old guy, and pressing hard on the torn wound in his little brother's throat.

"Come on Sammy, don't do this…"

He begged as redness so thick it was almost black came through the cotton, soaking his hands as he desperately pressed it in place. He took more from the old guy and tried not to see the look of hopelessness on his face.

"Sam, come on. You can't die, you can't."

The cotton was doing nothing so Dean scrambled for the first aid box himself, hoping to find something else. His hands left dark smears across the crisp red cross on the front of the box and as he frantically searched for anything to save his brother's life he was vaguely aware of the fight still going on behind him.

"Hey watch where you're swinging that thing!"

"Well if you will get in the way."

"Well if you will have such a stupidly big sword!"

"Shut up both of you and just let me get the last one, alright?"

"Like you even knew vampires existed ten minutes ago."

Sam gurgled, flopping uselessly on the floor and Dean felt his eyes burn with inevitable tears as he held his brother still.

"No Sammy," he sniffed, "You can't leave me, not like this, not after all we've been through…Come on damnit!"

But it was hopeless. All too soon Sam lay still and Dean felt the threatened tears fall.

"Sammy…no…"

"Is he gone?"

Dean spun around at the casual voice behind him, pulling the gun from his belt and pointing it at the smug bastard's head.

"You want to go with him?"

"Wait a second, you don't want to do this…" The old man began.

"Yes he does," Mr Smug said with a lazy smile.

"Damn right I do! That's my little brother you're talking about."

The old man tottered over, hovering as if he wanted to stand between them, but not dumb enough to do it.

"Hold on, I know this is terrible but it's not Adam's fault." When no one seemed inclined to put away their weapons he continued. "Mac you want to help me out here?"

Ponytail guy shrugged, propping his sword against a chair.

"Not particularly."

"What…?"

"Give it a minute Joe." The blond kid offered, laying his own sword on the bar.

Joe blinked. "Seriously?"

"Yup." Adam smiled smugly, still staring down the barrel of Dean's gun.

There was a load gasp from behind Dean, but he was more interested in the force that knocked them all on their asses. When he turned back to Sam's body it wasn't a body anymore...it was Sam! Sat up, gasping for breath, looking really confused, but with no ugly hole in his neck Sam!

"Sam! But how the…?"

"What the hell was that?" Joe griped loudly, attempting to get up with a great deal of difficulty until Mac gave him a hand.

Adam Smug was not so smug now. In fact he looked a little dazed. "Yes, I wasn't prepared for that."

"Sammy…"

Dean didn't care: he'd seen enough weird shit in his life and this was the best kind of weird shit. If Sam's abilities meant he got to live that's all that mattered.

Though there could be another reason…he had got bitten by a vampire.

Dean grabbed the super-soaker from where Sam had dropped it and shot his little brother…

Who spluttered slightly as the water hit his face but didn't burn: no smoke at all.

"Dude?!" Sam complained as the water rinsed down his neck leaving nothing but a pale orange residue.

Dean shrugged. "You got bit and died. I had to make sure."

"I'm not a vampire dude."

"Sure I can see that now."

"Wait: I died?"

"No doubt. Your neck was all torn to shit too…though it seems fine now."

"Ahem!" Adam cleared his throat pointedly, waiting until he had their full attention before continuing. "There are some things you need to know."

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It took a couple of hours to work through the full nuances of the rules of the game, as well as what Immortals were, to Dean and Sam's satisfaction and Dean wasn't still all that happy about the situation.

"But what was that thing that knocked us all down?" Richie asked.

"That's what I'd like to know," Joe griped, rubbing his sore ass. "I've never seen anything like it."

"That's just this thing Sam can do sometimes…" Dean offered vaguely, still thinking about his little brother's new status as an Immortal.

"What? What did I do?" Sam asked innocently.

"You did one of those psychic punch things just as you were waking up." Dean smirked, "Knocked us all on our asses. Pretty strong thing you got there."

"I told you, I can't do it on purpose."

"You might find you can now."

That drew the brothers' attention. Adam went on.

"Most Immortals who were psychic before their first death find that their powers are stronger once they become Immortal. The older you get and the more Quickenings you take the stronger you'll get too most likely."

"Cool," Dean grinned. "Think it's time for that trip to Vegas yet?"

Sam rolled his eyes, refusing to answer.

"You should really stay," Mac said. "You need to learn how to stay alive."

"Dude, we've done nothing but learn how to stay alive since we were kids."

"He's right," Sam said more gently, "Fighting things…it's how we live."

"Not like this. Do you know how to use a sword? How to kill a man with it?"

Sam shrugged, uncomfortable. "The basics. We met this group down in Sunnydale a few years back who were pretty up on bladed weapons and showed us the ropes."

"Buffy, right?"

Everyone looked at Richie as Sam and Dean nodded.

"Cool! I met Buffy about two years ago. She's one amazing fighter. Could probably even give Mac a run for his money."

"They're up in Cleveland now."

"No way! It would be cool to see them again…"

"Still, you're going to need training. You'll be up against hunters who have centuries more experience than you."

"Does this sound familiar?" Dean asked his brother.

"Shut up Dean. Look, Macleod, we appreciate all you've told us and everything, but we have a job to do. We don't have time for me to spend some quality years training here with you, ok? We'll just have to make do."

"Or one of us could go along with you? Teach you as you go, you know. Maybe even help you out with what you do? There's centuries of experience in this room that could be of use to you."

Sam and Dean shared a glance at Adam's suggestion.

"You know about what we fight?"

"The vampires downstairs were a clue, but I'm guessing there's more than that right?"

"Right."

"More?" Mac asked. "What more?"

"You don't know that either?" Richie beamed. "Man! There's all kinds of demons and beasts out there! The gang down in Sunnydale face off against some nasty stuff: and we're talking straight from hell nasty."

"So?" Adam queried. "Could you use an extra experienced hand that, incidentally, is Immortal, and get some sword lessons thrown in?"

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Sam paused as he was about to get in the car.

"Does it bother you that I can't be your real brother?"

Dean snorted.

"What, so I didn't practically raise you while dad was off hunting when we were kids? Of course it doesn't bother me." Dean slipped into the car and Sam followed suit. "Makes me wonder if dad knew though."

"How could he not?"

"I don't know: maybe you were switched at birth or something."

"You really believe that?"

"Look, you and dad are all the family I ever knew after mum died. I'm not gonna start looking for reasons to cut you loose ok?"

Sam didn't answer, but he couldn't help a warm little smile hovering over his lips.

The back door slammed.

"So, we ready to go?" Adam asked.


	3. Home

Crossover: HL/Supernatural/SG1 (S4 HL!verse, post season 7 BtVS!verse, S2 SPN!verse, S6 SG1!verse

Claim: Highlander (general series)

For prompt: 090 Home

Characters: M, Dean, Sam (mention of Daniel Jackson)

Summary: Lawrence wasn't the only home of Sam's that was affected by the YED.

A/N: names of Sam's friends taken from 1x06 where he's checking his email.

A/N2: Sam and Dean don't know about Methos – they still think he's just Adam Pierson.

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"Keep your guard up! You're wide open!"

"Ah!"

"That's not going to kill you, but the next strike might so: Keep. Your. Guard. Up!"

Dean leaned out the window of the motel room. "Dude's do you really have to do that so early?"

Methos paused, leaving Sam to rest the tip of his new sword on the ground and pant.

"It's almost 11."

Dean rubbed an arm over his eyes. "Yeah and we were up till 5 hunting down the cause of that stupid curse. I don't know about Immortals, but this mortal needs his beauty sleep. Besides should you really be doing that out here? Little public don't you think?"

"If there were any 'public' within ten miles of here I would agree with you, but even the owner has gone off somewhere and we've got to practice if you want your brother to keep his head where it is."

Dean put up his hands in defeat. "Fine, fine." He retreated back into the room, mumbling about coffee.

"Now," Methos announced raising his sword, "let's try this again."

"Adam I know I need to be able to protect myself, but this isn't working. I just can't get my head round this," he waved his broadsword uselessly, "sword stuff." He sighed. "Give me a machete and I can handle it, but this is just too weird. Besides how am I supposed to carry something this big around with me all the time?"

Methos waved his question away, lost in thought. "I can show you how to do that, but maybe you're right…Dean!" Methos called as the older Winchester appeared from the room and headed towards the car. "Grab us a couple of machetes from the trunk!"

"Get your own damn machetes! I'm going out for donuts!"

Methos rolled his eyes and slouched over to the Impala, Sam tagging along warily behind.

"An old student of mine uses a falcata," Methos called back over his shoulder, "it's an ancient type of sword not much bigger than a machete. It's used in a completely different way to a broadsword…maybe its forms will suit your style better."

"I hope so. I feel ridiculous carrying this thing."

"You should," Dean smirked, "You look ridiculous."

"Thanks-ah!"

Sam clutched at his head, falling to his knees as Dean nearly leapt over the car to get to his side.

"Sam! Just breathe Sammy…What do you see?"

"Vision?" Methos asked.

"Yeah, a vision," Dean retorted tersely.

"…Standford. My dorm…I've gotta go back."

"Whoa, whoa there, Sammy. Tell us what you saw."

Sam was panting from the pain as he tried to stand, Dean keeping a firm hold on his arm to stop him from falling.

"It's happening all over again. Just like Lawrence – someone's in my old dorm room and they're gonna die if we don't do something!"

Dean nodded purposefully, stuffing their bags properly in the trunk before slamming it shut and diving into the driver's seat, while Sam tentatively made his way to the passenger side.

Methos picked up Sam's dropped sword.

"I guess there's no time to stop for those donuts on the way?"

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His dorm had been rebuilt from the fire so that it looked as if nothing had ever happened here, that Jessica had never died. As Sam got out of the car, looking round his old familiar campus he realised that this was the last place he wanted to be.

Dean would get a kick out of that: college boy afraid of being back at college, but it was true. The last year and a half, how easy it had been to fall back into the old routine of hunting, had only reminded him that he didn't belong here with normal people. It was all pretend, the idea that he could have a normal life, it always had been pretend. No one here had ever really known him, known what his life was like, not even Jessica.

He regretted that now, wished he had told her, but there was nothing he could do about that now. The only thing he could do was stop anyone else from dying because of his screwed up destiny. He headed in direction of his old dorm, Dean and Adam trailing along behind him.

"Ah it's been a while," Adam said with a nostalgic sigh.

"You went to college here too?" Dean asked.

"Nope, but universities are all the same. I've always loved the atmosphere of learning."

"You went to college in England, or wherever you're from?"

"Oxford actually. And Alexandria. A few other places. I guest lectured at some colleges in Greece years ago, and Mac even convinced me to talk to his students once. But actually no, I didn't go to university where I came from."

"Whatever dude. You're a big Immortal nerd, I get it."

"Guys," Sam chastised softly as they arrived at their destination. He knocked tentatively to have the door open in a cloud of sweet smoke moments later.

"Yeah..?" The guy looked at them blearily through bloodshot eyes, leaning on the door as much as holding it open. "You Marty's friends? She's not here yet."

"Actually-" Sam began, but Dean smacked him in the chest to stop him, beaming reassuringly at the stoned student.

"That's us, Marty said we could hang out here and wait for her. Mind if we come in?"

Dean didn't wait for an answer but barged right in to the dark, smoke-filled depths. "Hey mind if I snag a beer?" Dean asked, seeing the case on the floor in the middle of the ring of stoners.

"Ditto."

"Sure, man, help yourselves. It's all good."

"Thanks!" Dean beamed as he grabbed two, throwing one in Methos's direction.

"So how long have you lived here?" Sam asked, standing by the door while Dean and Methos made themselves comfortable.

"Ever since it reopened couple of months ago. Lucky too: my landlord kicked me out after Christmas break."

"They get everything fixed ok after the fire?" Dean asked.

"Oh! You know about the fire? Yeah, they fixed everything. I mean good enough, you know."

"You said good enough? You've got problems?"

"Sure, I mean, the lights can go a bit weird and the toilet's been backed up almost a week now, but I've been in worse places."

Methos, Sam and Dean shared a look and they all shifted subtly away from the door that led to the bathroom.

"So how d'you know Marty? One of you her new guy?"

"Uh…"

"Oh it's totally cool. It was a totally mutual break up."

"Actually, I think maybe we were supposed to meet her somewhere else, so we'll just go there."

"Thanks for the beer." Dean said as he followed his brother out.

They were waiting outside for a couple of minutes before Methos appeared, tucking something away in his pocket. At Sam's glare he smirked.

"Hey, it's not like it's going to kill me. You either. Maybe you should try it?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Come on. It looks like we've got till nightfall at least. We should get provisions and come back."

"Provisions for what?"

Sam sighed. "Back in Lawrence, Missouri made these pouches…talismans I guess, to put in the house to get rid of the spirit. We make some more, come back tonight once they've all passed out and put them in the corners of the house."

"The recipe is in Dad's journal." Dean agreed. "But dude, maybe you should try some, smoke that bug out of your ass."

"Well excuse me for being a little sensitive about the place where my girlfriend was murdered!"

"Sam?"

He spun round. "Mary Ann? Jerry?"

"Oh my God! Sam!!" Mary Ann rushed up, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Where the hell have you been man?" Jerry asked, giving him a friendly punch on the arm. "We've been worried about you. You never came back after…"

"Yeah," Sam started, peeling Mary Ann away from his neck. "It was just too much you know. After the fire and everything."

"But you're here now? I mean you're back in class right?" Mary Ann asked hopefully.

Sam cleared his throat. "Not really…just kind of visiting."

"But you are coming back, right?"

"Look, why don't you crazy kids catch up over mocha javas or whatever." Dean said, already backing away. "The old dude and I have got this."

Sam looked at him desperately. "Are you sure? You don't need me to show you around or anything?"

"Nah, we're cool. Nerd guy knows the campus life I'm sure we'll find our way."

Without letting Sam get another word in Dean spun on his heel, pushing Methos ahead of him.

"I don't think he wanted to be left with his friends…"

"Yeah well I didn't want to be left in awkwards-ville either. Sammy's just gonna have to deal. Now where the hell are we gonna get what we need for these talismans?"

"Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes at the distraction, but his face lit up when he saw who was calling him.

"Hey Becky, how you doing?"

"Good thanks. Where's Sam?"

"Some old friends found him. I think they were going to get coffee if you want to catch up to them."

"Thanks I'll do that. Nice to see you again." She turned to leave.

"Oh hey!" She paused at his call, fixing a defensive look on her face at his goofy grin. "I don't suppose you know anywhere we can buy arrowroot around here?"

Becky chuckled. "I guess this isn't a social call then?"

Dean shrugged. "Spirit haunting Sammy's old room…"

Becky rolled her eyes. "Of course. Lucky for you after what happened last time I saw you and your brother I've been shopping in the most interesting places." She pointed into the distance. "Go right down to the other end of campus and turn right. Up the street a little way and another right and you'll see the place.

"Thanks Becky."

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Sam had been relieved when Becky showed up at the coffee house. She at least helped him steer the conversation away from what he had been doing for the passed year, though he had had to think quickly when she asked who Adam was (he had said it was just one of Dean's friends along for the ride for a bit). As the sun set he had Mary Ann and Jerry begging him to stay for a little longer, to crash on their couch, but no such offers from Becky. Dean had obviously told her why they were there if her concerned hug before he left was anything to go by, but she didn't push, just whispered good luck into his ear before she let go.

He wanted to tell her that he would be alright: that there was nothing short of a slice to the head that could hurt him now. He wanted someone to confide in, but this was not the time, the place or the person. He would have to make do with an insensitive older brother and an Immortal teacher instead.

Said compatriots were waiting for him outside the kid's window. He knew before he even got there as the buzz of Adam's quickening made his head ache dully until he got round the corner and met his teacher's eyes, each of them letting out a pent up breath.

"Huh, Immortals: better than spidey sense."

"Shut up Dean. You got the talismans?"

"No thanks to you." Dean said, passing him one.

"Hey, you're the one who left me there."

"They're your friends."

"Children can we just do this and get out of here. As much as I enjoy breaking and entering in order to kill ghosts I have other things I want to do with my evening. Like buying some beer to go with my baggy."

"And I thought Dean was immature. How old did you say you are?"

Methos smirked. "Here's another lesson on Immortality for you. Some of us are a little picky about our age."

There was a pop as Dean jimmied the window open, a rasp as he pulled himself inside.

Someone was asleep on the couch, someone else sprawled on the floor and the bedroom at the end of the hall was shut tight for the night. The trio crept to their places, finding recesses at the back of cupboards and pulling up loose carpet to find somewhere they could stash their talismans where they wouldn't be found.

Just as Dean was about to place his last one in the final corner of the house the lights suddenly turned themselves on and began to flicker and he felt himself blown backwards by something. Crawling across the floor into a spectral wind, he tried to make it back to the window seat where he needed to stash the thing, but the wind was just too strong. Even the stoners were starting to realise something was wrong, blearily coming back to consciousness as a Playstation cord wrapped itself around his leg and pulled him away.

"Sam! Adam! Get in here!"

"What?" Sam asked as he came running.

"Here!" Dean threw his talisman to his brother. "Get that in the window seat and let's get out of here!"

The wind was swirling round the room now, picking up everything in its path and flinging it at the two men trying to stop it. The stoners were up and made a run for it. Sam barely made it as far as Dean had before a bong smacked him in the head, splitting his forehead to make a bloody trail run down his face before it healed.

"Holy…" Dean heard Adam mutter as he came back from his own duty.

"Who the hell are you guys and why are you in my house?! What the..?"

Dean turned to see a pretty girl, her hair dyed various shades of purple and blue walking into the apartment. He just managed to catch a glimpse of her before Adam was pushing her to the floor, an ornamental candlestick piercing him in his side, just under his ribs, instead of getting her in the stomach. He cried out as he fell, the new girl scrabbling over to try and pull him out of the way of the ever-flying debris.

"Shit," Dean muttered, turning back to see that Sam had seen the same thing. Slowly his eyes hardened and Dean felt the wind slowing. Or rather it wasn't slowing – he could see things whipping round as fast as ever – but it didn't seem to be having the same effect anymore near the two brothers anymore. Sam strolled forward in his little bubble of calm and deposited the talisman where it needed to be.

Immediately the wind stopped, the contents of the room clattering back to earth innocently. Well, all except the one in Adam's side.

Sam and Dean went over to the terrified girl holding their friend on her lap.

"He pushed me out the way…" She said tearfully as he gasped for breath.

"You must be Marty," Sam said gently.

She nodded numbly. "W-we have to get him to a hospital."

"We've got a car right outside. We'll take him. He'll be fine." Sam smiled and Dean cursed again his ridiculously trustable expression.

Sam and Dean carried Adam outside, but as soon as the door shut behind them he was wriggling to be put down.

"Will…you…just pull it out already!" Adam gasped. "I'm working with one lung here.

Sam and Dean shared a glance until Dean shrugged and made way for Sam. The younger Winchester was the gentler one, though neither of them saw how this was going to be anything but unbearably painful. Gingerly Sam got a grip.

"For God's sake hurry up or I'll do it myself!"

Sam tugged sharply and it came free, Adam's eyes going wide for a moment before he started breathing more easily. He stood, waving off Sam's offer of help.

"That's better," Adam sighed. "So…where to next?"


	4. Drink

Crossover: HL/SPN

Characters: Methos, Dean, Sam, Ellen, Jo, misc Roadhouse patrons

For Prompt: 060 Drink

Summary: two Immortals head to head. The weapon: Roadhouse beer.

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The bell clattered and Ellen turned to see two familiar faces and one not so familiar coming out of the shaft of orange, sunset light allowed entry by the open door.

"Evening Dean, Sam. Who's your friend?"

Door closed and gloom reinstated Ellen took a look at the new comer. He didn't look much like a hunter: not scarred enough and definitely not like the rednecks she got in here. He looked more like she imagined Sam would have turned out if he had stayed at college and become a respectable young man. She didn't see what he could want in a place like this and didn't hide her suspicion as she went back to absent-mindedly wiping down the bar.

"Hey Ellen. This is Adam. He was a friend of our dad's…"

Ellen sincerely doubted that, but Sam was just too sweet to knock down. They both knew he was lying and that she'd let it go this time. Some time though they were going to have a talk about how many lies he could get away with in her bar and stay a customer.

"Hey Adam," she said congenially. "What can I get you boys?"

Adam and Dean went straight for beers while Sam asked for a Coke. Damn boy was far too sweet for his own good: too sweet to be a hunter.

"Take a seat and I'll bring 'em over."

"I'll take 'em Momma!" Jo called, exchanging smiles with the boys as she appeared from the back room.

"You finish inventorying what we got down there?" She asked her errant daughter, not liking the looks she was throwing at Dean in particular.

"No…but Momma!"

"Don't 'but Momma' me. Get your ass back down there and do what you're told."

Jo huffed insolently, but went obediently back to work. Ellen glared at Dean and took some pleasure in the way he quickly backed away to follow Sam and Adam to their table.

It only took a minute to get the drinks together, but by the time she was setting them down in front of her customers they were going at it. The few hunters in the bar made enough noise so it wasn't too noticeable until she got close, but if they kept this up they were going to be out. Hunters were volatile enough without giving them an excuse for a punch up.

"Here you go boys."

They paused while she set their drinks in front of them, Adam and Sam glaring at each other, while Dean just looked uncomfortable. Dean as a peace maker? Somehow it just didn't sit right.

She set the Coke in front of Sam and Adam started up again.

"This is what I'm talking about! For God's sake at least have a glass of wine you girl!"

"I don't feel like drinking."

The tension in Sam's voice belied his soft tone. Ellen didn't like this.

"You never feel like drinking! Or screwing, or having any fun at all!"

"He's got you there bro." Dean said seriously.

Sam stood abruptly, Adam following him out of his seat, the Coke in his hand before Ellen could blink and splashing into Sam's face the second after.

This was not good. Dean was wrestling in between them as Sam launched himself at his tormentor.

"Hey! No fighting in my bar!"

"You heard the lady," Dean grunted, just barely keeping them from each other's throats. "No swordplay indoors."

Whatever that crack was supposed to mean, it seemed to do the trick. Slowly the pair parted, a pent-up breath leaving Ellen and Dean both.

A smile was slowly spreading across Adam's face and for some reason it made Ellen more uncomfortable than the prospect of a fight.

"Tell you what," he offered, "you drink me under the table and I let you off tomorrow's training."

"One day?" Sam scoffed. "Make it three. And you have to not drink, smoke, get high or whatever else it is you do for those three days too and you've got yourself a deal."

Adam seemed to consider it. "Ok, and if I win you've got to have some fun. Three days of non-stop fun and games: no haunted houses or possessed children or obsessing over that damn demon. But either way we go straight to see Daniel afterwards. No putting it off anymore."

Sam held out a hand and Adam took it with a dark smile.

Dean did not look happy.

"Ellen could we get a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses?"

Ellen wasn't happy either, but if it gave her a quiet life she'd bite. "Sure Sam."

She grabbed what was needed from behind the bar, but didn't see how this could end well for either of those two. This was going to be embarrassing: Adam didn't look any more able to hold his drink than Sam was. It was going to be a battle of the lightweights: first one to make it to three shots wins.

Bottle made a satisfying thunk as she set it on the scarred table top. Sam and Adam had sat back down in their places opposite each other, Sam glaring while Adam simply smirked. The few hunters intrigued by the thought of a fight seemed as unimpressed with the likelihood of this turning into anything interesting as Ellen was, but she set the glasses in front of her customers anyway.

"No pausing." Adam warned his opponent as he poured the first shots. "You've got to keep up whelp or it won't mean a thing."

Sam just intensified his glare and knocked back the first one, immediately pouring the next and taking it as easy as the first.

Adam's smile widened. "At a boy," he said as he joined in the game.

Ellen had never seen anyone drink like those two. It was only a matter of minutes before the first bottle was gone and neither of them looked inclined to stop. It was anyone's game as Dean picked up their next bottle from the bar and delivered it to the table. He even took the empty for them, disposing of it in the bin behind the bar while keeping a wary eye on the other hunters peppering the bar. They were mostly interested in the pool table and Jo's latest hustle at the shooting game, no one taking an interest in a couple of guys quietly drinking…

Another bottle down and Ellen was sure they should both be out cold. Sam was showing more obvious signs of it effecting him, but Ellen could tell that Adam wasn't doing any better, he just had more practice at hiding it. Still, they both sat straight in their seats, not a drop spilled as they continued…

When Dean fastidiously cleared up the third empty bottle Ellen was certain that something very wrong was going on right under her nose. No man could handle that much whiskey and still be alive, let alone standing: it just wasn't possible. And the way Dean kept all the evidence neatly cleared away: he knew something was up and he was trying to keep it quiet. Well, she had a right to know what those damn Winchesters had brought into her bar this time!

"Dean Winchester, get your ass over here!"

He slipped his sincerest smile onto his face, but Ellen was having none of it. She grabbed his arm and dragged him into the dusty back room, kicking the cover over the cellar so they didn't fall down and making a mental note to have a word with Jo about safety.

"Dean Winchester d'you want to tell me something about this new friend of yours?"

"Not really."

Ellen knew that sheepish look, so like the boy's father. That man could weasel out of anything if he put his mind to it, but Ellen wasn't about to let this kid play her.

"Well, you better start talking, or else we are going to have a problem."

The sound of clattering chairs on the wood floor and what sounded like blades being drawn filtered through from the bar. Dean jumped like he'd been pricked by something and peaked round the door. His face was a picture when he turned back to her.

"I think we've already got a problem."

He dashed out like someone had lit a fire under him and Ellen wasn't far behind, not liking the sounds of a ruckus coming from her bar. She came to an abrupt halt when she found Sam and Adam on their feet, Sam waving a machete menacingly in the vague direction of Adam's chest and throat. The rest of the bar's patrons were stood ready, boozed up and just waiting to join in the fray, but none too eager to get in the way of the very obviously sharp machete and the very obviously drunk man holding it.

"You bast…"

With a final weave the younger Winchester keeled over backwards, out cold on the floor. Ellen breathed a sigh of relief and saw Dean's shoulders relax too. He stood over his brother shaking his head and Ellen just thought she heard him murmur "ah, Sammy," before he was hauling his brother to his feet, draping the taller man's arm over his shoulders. The other patrons seemed disappointed in the lack of entertainment as they shuffled drunkenly back to their own tables. Adam blinked a few times, weaving slightly in place before he reached down and finished off his last drink.

"What did you say to him?" Jo asked, astounded.

Adam belched. "I insulted his manhood."

He scooped the machete off the floor and positioned himself under Sam's other arm, ready to help Dean get him out.

"Sorry Ellen," Dean said, "We'll get out of here."

"You bet you will. And next time you come by here I'm going to want some answers."

"You may want them, but you're never going to get them," Adam slurred, stumbling a little as they started their ungainly procession across the cigarette-strewn floor towards the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I know Sammy can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but why'd you have to do that?"

"Because," Adam hiccupped. "Because your brother…your brother could be the one."

Dean settled Sam's arm more comfortably, grunting as he took the weight again. "The one what?"

"The winner!" Adam announced, throwing his arms out expansively and letting Sam drop to the ground.

Dean just managed to stop his brother's head bouncing off the pavement and it was enough to jolt the big lump on his way back to consciousness. Dean patted his face a couple of times. "Wake up Sammy. Come on, wake up! I'm not carrying your ass any further than I have to."

Adam seemed to be in a world of his own as he gazed up at the sky, spinning round and round slowly in place. "Mac's getting more careless every year…Sam could be our last hope."

Dean snickered. He made his voice thin and croaky. "'There is another Sky…Walker…'"

"Dean…" Sam whined, scrubbing at his face and sweeping his hair back as he regained consciousness. "I thought we agreed no more Star Wars quotes…"

Adam swayed closer, leaning down to try and fix his eyes on his victim. "Three days Sam! Oh we are going to have so much fun!"


	5. Days

Crossover: HL/SPN

Characters: Methos, Dean, Sam

For Prompt: 007 Days

Warnings: Downright frivolous and frankly reckless drug use – but hey, they're Immortals. They can take it

Summary: three days of "fun" Methos-style

Day 1

"You've never had a cigarette before?"

"Why would I?"

"Not even one drag?"

"No! They're disgusting!"

"Not even just a taste as a teenager to see what all the fuss was about?"

"Sam was never a teenager. He went straight from five to forty…a boring forty."

"Dean!"

"Just telling it like it is Sammy."

"So you've never had black coffee and cigarettes in the morning. Or that last one at four in the morning after your fifteenth beer?"

"I'm not sure it's possible to drink that much…"

"Oh you have so much to learn. We need a bar – stat!"

Day 2

"Trust me."

"Why should I?"

"Well I'm not actually giving you a choice. You lost the bet and your brother isn't here to protect you, so what I'm saying is we're going to go in here, buy copious amounts of pot and spend some good quality time completely stoned."

"Why?! Why would that be fun?! We don't even know these people! Why do you want to destroy parts of your brain, even if it is temporary?"

"Ok, first? Pot doesn't destroy your brain. And second, wasn't keeping up with me at the bar last night fun? Didn't you actually take that rod out of your ass for the first time ever and didn't it feel good? Trust me: if you liked that you're going to love this."

Day 3

…………….

Day 4

Sam awoke in a surprisingly comfortable tangle of naked limbs, lying on a deep shag pile in what looked like a fairly middle class living room judging by the faux mahogany windows and swirly plaster on the ceiling – he was too comfortably sleepy to worry about investigating more. His memories of the day before were hazy at best: the pot had made him giggle in an embarrassingly girly way, but Adam had been right and it had been good to let go. Everything had seemed like a good idea after the third fat joint, smoked completely pure with no tobacco to get in the way of the buzz or the sweet, cloying flavour. They'd left the stoners to find a 7-11 and bought more junk food than it was physically possible to eat. Adam had met someone behind the store and given him…something. It was a bit hazy, but he remembered suddenly that everything looked so cool. Adam had had to drag him away from studying the lights of the halos around the lights of the 7-11. That hadn't lasted long, but there had been more pot and more "good" ideas as they stumbled through town. There had definitely been a bar…or was it a club? Sam grimaced as he remembered how easily he had accepted everything Adam had given him to try…

…but how had he ended up here? And where was here anyway?

There was a feminine sigh from beside of him and Sam hoped that when he saw her face he'd remember her name. He'd never been like this, like Dean, to just find any old girl when he was drunk.

There was another feminine groan from near his feet and Sam suddenly realised that there were rather too many limbs tangled round his own.

A definitely more masculine cough sounded from across the room and Sam was abruptly awake and wondering far more urgently what had happened. Careful not to wake anyone, he slipped himself free of the pile of sleepy, sated bodies and stood, searching the room desperately for something familiar. Seeing a man pillowing his head on Adam's stomach did not count and Sam stumbled out of the room to find a pile of clothes and bags dumped in the hall. He eventually found his jeans and his cell and called Dean.

"Dude where the hell are you?! I've been calling since Yesterday morning!"

"We were with you yesterday morning…"

"It's Thursday Sam!"

"Thursday…?"

"Where the hell are you?"

"I have no idea. I'll try and wake Adam without waking the others…"

"Others?" Dean's voice on the end of the line had gone from worried to proud. "Adam really does no how to make you have a good time. Just…give me a call back when you're done ok?"


	6. He

Crossover: HL/SPN/SG1

Characters: Methos, Dean, Sam, Daniel Jackson

For Prompt: 088 He

Summary: Sam gets to grips with a new teacher.

Daniel Jackson isn't what I expected.

He's some kind of translator and cultural consultant and yet he works with the Air Force. It seems weird that the military would need such a person…especially as his speciality is ancient Egypt. I know the military can be a bit overzealous, but I don't even see them waging war on a dead civilisation… Dean wasn't too happy to find out that he was with the military even if it is only as a consultant. I'm not too happy about that either to tell the truth, but Adam trusts him and I need what he knows if I'm going to last long as an immortal…

He wears his glasses when we spar and I keep my strikes well below his head…to make sure I don't break them.

His friends drop by now and then and don't seem too surprised to find us there sparring in the secluded back yard, me with a machete and him with his little curved falcata. He must trust them, but there's something very unnerving about them that I can't put my finger on. Especially the big guy…

I like his study. It's everything my life isn't: scholarly and safe.

His computer is locked the minute he's not using it. I tried to hack into it, but came up against some scary security. Whatever he's involved in it's as classified as it gets.

Adam treats him like a child sometimes, and it's nice to know I'm not the only one he treats like that, but he knows something about my teacher that shuts Adam up with a look…


	7. She

Crossover: HL/SPN/BtVS

Characters: Methos, Dean, Sam, Willow

For Prompt: 089 She

Summary: Sam gets to grips with a new teacher.

Willow Rosenburg…I have no idea what to make of her.

We came to Cleveland to meet her, to help with my…abilities. We met her a couple of years ago, but she seems different from back then. She's nice: flaky, but nice. Dean's keeping consecrated iron rounds close by just in case.

She's "strong with the magics" according to people round here, but I'm not entirely sure what that's supposed to mean. I'm trying to ignore the comments from her friends about the dark side.

Her house is immense and full of girls with unlimited energy. I've seen less scary demons.

She gets me to breathe deeply and centre myself a lot. She stopped letting Dean watch our lessons when she mentioned drawing on the power of the earth and he giggled.

I like her meditation room: it's relaxing. Dean would never understand.

Xander has an eye patch now. I asked her once how he lost his eye and now I really wish I hadn't. We heard about what happened to Sunnydale: I don't ask her why her other friends aren't here with them.

She's shown me how I can tap my powers, and what to practice to make them stronger, but I'm not sure I want to. I think she understands that.

Adam is a little afraid of her I think. I guess she can't be as flaky as she seems.


End file.
